


Witch Hunt

by whatdoyouthinkmyjobis



Series: Hunters on the Hellmouth [15]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dating is hard, Episode: s07e03 Same Time Same Place, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Librarian Sam, Monster of the Week, Murder, Relationship Issues, Season Rewrite, Season/Series 07, Suspicious Dean, episode rewrite, skinned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoyouthinkmyjobis/pseuds/whatdoyouthinkmyjobis
Summary: Willow gets a cold welcome when she returns to Sunnydale. Meanwhile, Buffy gives Dean the cold shoulder when he tries to help hunt a monster.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was inspired by events in BTVS 7.03 “Same Time, Same Place.”

_Maybe they were busy_ , Willow thought, wringing her hands. The sharp pain in her gut told her it wasn’t true.

Her friends should have met her at the airport where she waited for three hours before calling a taxi. They should have at least answered their phones. And when she came home to a bright house stirring up a mix of warmth and wailing inside of her, someone should have been there. It was after ten on a school night. Maybe Dawn was staying at Xander’s while Buffy patrolled?

At the top of the stairs, she stood transfixed staring at the master bedroom at the end of the hall. Her room. Tara’s room. The place Tara was murdered.

She went into Buffy’s room, piled with boxes. It was supposedly her room now, but between the unwelcoming cardboard and Buffy’s posters still decorating the walls it seemed like a last minute idea. It seemed like storage for unwanted things.

Not knowing what to do with herself, Willow fell onto the bed and cried herself to sleep.

A noise woke her a few hours later. “Hello?” The lights were out, but she didn’t remember turning them off. The door to the master bedroom was closed. She sneaked inside, but the room was still empty. Buffy had thoroughly moved in, her clothes tossed over all the surfaces, her phone and Mr. Pointy on her nightstand.

Willow stared at the spot of carpet that had soaked up Tara’s blood. There was a pink and brown rug there now, a pair of plaid pajama pants casually tossed on top. Was that all it took to forget a death?

* * *

 

“You got your lunch money, Sammy?” Dean had been needling his brother their entire drive to Sunnydale High. “Remember, if a kid is giving you shit, go ahead an’ sock ‘im. We completely make up our permanent records anyway.”

“I’m pretty sure knocking around students is frowned upon.”

“Lucky for you, chances are good jackass kid might be a zombie or something.” Dean raised his eyebrows in delight as they pulled into the parking lot.

They got out of the Impala to head to their separate jobs, but Dean didn’t quite want to go. Sam leaving him for the day to work as a school librarian felt so adult and new, but now they had a place to live and Dean was in a have-dinner-together-every-night-before-killing-monsters relationship. Maybe their old lives could fade away?

He licked his thumb and smoothed his little brother’s flyaway hair. Sam smacked his hand away.

“You think I can pull this off?” Sam, who had effortlessly posed as many law enforcement officers, repairmen, counselors and priests, looked nervous.

Dean regarded his brother from head to toe. “Your brain’s already full of books, so you got that goin’ for you. But this,” he gestured to the pants and button down shirt Sam had taken from his Fed suit, “you’re one backpack and a haircut away from asking people if they have a minute to talk about Jesus.”

Before Sam could respond, a tear-soaked redhead ran into him. She said nothing as she kept rushing to the edge of the parking lot where she collapsed in the grass. When the Winchesters approached her, she was shaking and trying to steady her breathing.

She was familiar. Dean whispered, “Isn’t that–?”

“Willow?” 

Startled, she turned around and wiped her tears. “D-do I know you?”

Sam crouched down and spoke gently. “No, but we know of you. I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean. We’re friends of Buffy’s.”

“Friends of Buffy’s?” She scanned their faces, doubt heavy in her eyes. “Have you seen her?”

“She was supposed to be with you all day yesterday,” said Dean.

Willow hung her head making it clear that’s not where Buffy had been.

“You see a ghost, lady? You look freaked. Here, have a drink,” Dean said handing her a flask.

“No, no thank you.”

“It’s just water. Now drink some and tell us what kind a creepy crawly you saw.”

Willow looked at him skeptically but eventually took a sip. “There was a body. In the pit. A body without any skin.”

The Winchesters stood up and leaned in close to confer with each other. “Skinned body ring a bell? Should we call your girlfriend?” Sam whispered.

“It’s late enough, Buffy and Xander are probably here already. Let’s go look at the body, then call ‘em.”

“Should we take Willow?”

“Don’t see what choice we – Goddamit!”

Willow was already gone.

“Do Sunnydale witches teleport?” Sam asked.

“Don’t know. I do know formerly black-eyed girl is not possessed,” said Dean, shaking the flask of holy water.

The brothers headed for “the pit,” an unpoured foundation for another wing of the school. The site was empty save for Buffy and Xander standing in front of an Earth Mover.

“Didn’t you guys get my message?” Xander asked. “No work toda – Wait a second, you’re Mr. Spiff.”

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and flashed a smile. “I don’t work for you anymore, remember?”

Buffy moved between them and whatever they’d been looking at in front of the machine. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping,” Dean said, smiling warmly and getting a stone-faced response from Buffy. He bypassed her and walked slowly around the area before approaching the raw, red body and crouching down for a better look. “We ran into Willow. She was pretty spooked. Told us about the body.”

“You saw her?” Xander exclaimed. “We looked for her all night! She never came home.”

Dean continued. “When your girl went off the deep end and flayed that guy, what happened to the skin?”

“That wasn’t the big focus,” said Xander, turning green. “Maybe it got caught in the trees?”

“No trees here. We got wide open space. It ain’t on top of this either,” Dean said banging on the Earth Mover. “So where’d it go?”

“And where’s all the blood?” Sam added. “There are impressions from something bending over the body. Assuming this guy died here, and I think that’s a fair assumption, why isn’t the ground soaked with blood?”

Xander’s mouth was agape. “Let me be the first to say, the depth of your knowledge is creepy.”

“Ain’t our first rodeo,” said Dean.

Buffy had been glaring at them the entire time, her jaw clenched tight as she listened. “Thanks, you’ve made your point. You’re an expert. Good for you! But I can handle this.”

Dean knew the annoyed look on her face; he’d seen it on plenty of local cops who wanted his fake-FBI self to go away. He hadn’t expected a fight over jurisdiction.

“I know this ain’t Willow’s first time either, so the body’s not what spooked her. I’m thinking, especially since she hasn’t seen you yet, that she’s worried blame’s gonna fall on her.”

“Dean, if Willow did this, I have to handle the fallout on my own,” Buffy said.

“I don’t think she did.” Nothing about her expression or body language had said _fresh kill_.

She looked at him quizzically, “Because you’re an expert on my friends now?”

Dean was stung. He leaned into her. “I thought your friends were my friends, or is that just certain ones?”

“Not the ones who may have killed someone.” Her eyes were cold, her lips a hard line.

“I’ve done this for a long time, Buffy. I know freaked when I see it. I’m just trying to help.”

“This is my problem, okay? You want to help, patrol tonight, but stay out of this,” she said as she stormed over to the ladder and climbed out of the hole.

* * *

 

Unexpected day off at his disposal, Dean picked up some paint, knobs, and hinges. He called the people who were replacing the kitchen counter, but it wouldn’t be ready until Friday. At home, he blasted _Houses of the Holy_ as loud as the laptop speakers could handle and set to work varnishing the cabinets.

Still, Buffy’s voice bounced around in his brain, _You want to help, patrol tonight, but stay out of this_. A few weeks ago, she’d been more than happy for their help taking down a big slithery demon, but last week she’d shoved him off with the same _you patrol_ deflection.

Of course, a lot had changed between the Olanta and now. His and Sam’s decision to stay in Sunnydale being one of the biggest. Moving forward with whatever his relationship with Buffy was was another. Buffy was working. Her sister started high school. His brother got a new job, and now Willow was back…somewhere. Even piled all together, Dean didn’t see how that could be a reason to push him away. It had all been transparent, above the table changes.

Except for the appearance of mysterious Spike. He’d never seen Buffy look as panicked as when they ran into each other outside of The Bronze a week ago. Spike postured himself like a cat protecting its territory. He looked at Buffy with burning desire in his eyes, at Dean like he wanted to watch him bleed. Even so, she wanted Spike’s help with the Tremor ex-boyfriend, and she wanted Dean to go away. Whoever he was, she trusted him.

She’d been acting strange the past couple of weeks. One moment she’d be warm and bright, laughing and trying to talk him into dancing in the kitchen. The next minute, she’d retreat into herself, her thoughts a million miles away. Sometimes when he kissed her, she would embrace him with her whole body, press into him like she wanted to become part of him. Other times a quick kiss on the cheek would barely register a smile. This morning when he tried to defend _her_ friend, she wouldn’t even listen.

“Fuck this,” Dean said, closing up the varnish and rinsing out the brushes. If Buffy didn’t want to listen to him, didn’t want his help, fine, but he didn’t have to sit back and let Willow take the fall for this. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, settled down with the laptop, and started researching. 

* * *

 

“It’s called a Gnarl,” Dean explained to Sam the moment he entered their apartment “Long-ass fingernails with some sort a paralytic. Skins it’s victims while they’re still alive so the blood keeps pumping. It eats the skin and drinks the blood, like a people Lunchable.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a productive day,” said Sam as he rubbed his face.

“Yeah, you?”

“I hate teenagers. Give me a minute and we can go back to more pleasant, predictable monsters.” Unbuttoning his shirt, Sam shuffled to his room.   

Dean turned up the volume on the laptop. “Screw a couch. We need to get an actual sound system,” he shouted.

_Don’t wanna see your shadow no more / Coloured lights can hypnotize / Sparkle someone else’s eyes._

His phone rang.

“Hey, Dean. It’s Buffy.”

He tried to not sound annoyed; maybe she was calling to bring him in on whatever was going on. “Hey, Buffy. I think I found somethin’ ‘bout –”

“That’s great. You know how you we usually have dinner together before patrol? I’m really busy, so let’s hold off on that for a couple days, okay.”

“Sooo, you’re saying you don’t want to see me for a few days. Is that it?”

“Look, Dean, I told you being the Slayer comes before being your girlfriend.” She sounded exasperated, like she was trying to reason with a child.

“This ain’t about you an’ me, Buffy. This is about Willow and whatever the hell is out there skinning people. Now I’ve been doing some digging and –”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Dean stared at the silent phone in his hand. _What the fuck’s gotten into her?_ “Sam! Grab your gun. We’re goin’ hunting.”

* * *

 

“I’m still not sure if this plan is great or terrible. Either way, Buffy’s going to be pissed at you,” hissed Sam. A house caddy corner from the Summers’ was for sale. Dean had picked the lock, and they sat in an empty second story bedroom waiting for someone to leave Buffy’s.

“It’s simple. We follow them. They’re gonna lead us to the action one way or the other. I just hope they found the same stuff about the Gnarl that I did, so this doesn’t become Operation Save the Witch.”

The stale air in the house was stifling. Sam wiped sweat from his forehead. “Saving a witch. I’m not sure if Bobby would laugh at us or smack us.”

The thought of Bobby made Dean smile a bit, a smile that quickly faded when his brother added, “I know he’d have a laugh about you dating.”

“Yeah, well, that’s sort of stalling.”

“What? It’s only been a week since you made this thing official.”’

“Official ain’t the word for it. I don’t know what is. I do know Buffy doesn’t trust me to be involved in whatever’s goin’ down. Kinda puts a strain on things.”

“Do you trust her?”

Dean moved the curtain for a better look then let it fall back in place. “I trust that she knows how to be the Slayer. It’s her job; her goddamn birthright. Shutting us out, though, that’s about something else.”

The minutes ticked by in silence as the sun settled below the horizon.

“How was work?” Dean asked.

“I don’t think Miss Gutterson was a very good librarian. Most of the books were piled in her office in boxes labeled _to burn_ and _smut_.”

“That’s just a waste of good smut. – Hey! They’re movin’!”

The Winchesters left the house and hung a few blocks back tailing Buffy, Dawn and Xander. Wherever they were headed, they were armed, Dawn with a short sword and Xander with a crossbow. Dean couldn’t see a weapon on Buffy, but he knew she was weapon enough on her own. Eventually, they ended up at the high school and slipped in through some open windows.

“Should we follow them in?” asked Sam.

Dean shook his head. According to the lore, Gnarls lived in natural habitats; it wouldn’t be in the school. So what were they after?

After twenty minutes, the Scoobies emerged with a lanky blond in tow. _‘Course it’s Spike._

From there, they followed the quartet to a park. Spike zipped ahead of them, talking to himself, and occasionally stopping to sniff the air before zagging off in a new direction.

“They’re hunting,” observed Sam.

Spike pushed aside some bushes and pointed at a cave before leaving them. Buffy and company disappeared inside.

“You wanna follow them?” Sam asked.

“If the Gnarl’s in here, let’s give them a shot at it first.”

“Knew you followed.”

Startled, the brothers wheeled around, guns cocked at Spike, who looked filthy and tired. He didn’t flinch but turned his head to the side as if he were looking at something through them.

“Could smell you. Smell her.”

“What are you doing here, Spike?” growled Dean.

“What a man must. Any man. She calls. Brings you to your knees, doesn’t it?” His trembling voice missed the confidence from the previous week. He dropped to his knees and reached out to them like he was trying to catch fireflies in their chests. “You’ve got it. Does it hurt like Hell?”

Sam lowered his gun. “Dean, I don’t think he’s well.”

“I don’t give a shit if he’s got a booboo or if he’s fuckin’ dyin’. I want answers. What’s in the cave, bitch?”

“Blood. Red. All the trouble she wants.”

In one fluid movement, he was on his feet again, swaggering and licking his lips. “That’s what you’re here for, boy. Trouble?” Like a cat playing with it’s prey, Spike circled them.

“Is that what you’re offering?” Dean’s voice was steady, cold.

“I have offered _everything_!” he shouted. “Not enough. Never enough.” He whispered, “Neither the living nor the not-living. Can’t give ‘er what she wants; doesn’t know. The spark isn’t enough. Can’t stamp it out, no. She’ll push a man to the edge even if he’s not a man at all.”

“Who is _she_?”

“Well, that’s the question, idn’t it? Just a girl. A tiny girl what can destroy a heart. She’s a predator that one. Can smell brokenness a mile off.” His eyes were dark as he regarded Dean. “Buffy will shatter you.”

Spike moved closer until the .45 was pressed against his chest. He cocked his head to the side and smiled slyly. “‘Er stink is all over you, mate. Been a couple days though. Does she not want your filthy ‘ands on ‘er?

Dean grabbed Spike’s shirt and dragged him to the ground. He held Spike down, knee on his chest, hand on his throat, gun to his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you or who the fuck you are, but you are already on my shit list. Now, Buffy got you from the school, and you led her, Dawn and Xander into that cave. Why? Is the Gnarl in there?”

Spike cackled at his own private joke.

In the distance, they heard a commotion and Buffy saying, “Xander, be careful with her!” Dean turned his head slightly and through the underbrush could see a figure pulling a stiff body out of the mouth of the cave.

Then Dean felt his body flying, heard his brother shouting, and still Spike’s throaty laugh. He hit a tree trunk, his back hot with pain, the air beaten from his lungs. Dizzy, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees and saw Spike, yellow-eyed and fanged.

“It’s been great playing with you. Maybe another time we’ll finish this. Boy.”

Before Dean could gather air, Spike had disappeared into the woods.

“Holy shit!” gasped Sam.

“Yeah,” groaned Dean as his brother helped him up. “After we kill the Gnarl, remind me to stake that son of a bitch. No, decapitation sounds more satisfying.”

They pushed through the bushes where Buffy was moving rocks over the cave entrance and Xander was holding a stiff but still alive Dawn.

“Oh, hey there chums. We’re just out of a stroll. Nothing weird happening at all,” Xander laughed nervously.

Buffy looked equal parts shocked and angry to see them, but before she could open her mouth, Dean asked, “Dawn get swiped by the Gnarl?”

Her face immediately softened. “Uh, yeah. How did you–?”

“Internet. So you gave up on blaming Willow?”

“Thought we’d at least look into Dawn’s Gnarl theory before killing a friend,” she said quietly.

“You found it?” said Sam to the paralyzed girl. “Good for you!”

“‘Anks!” she said through a locked jaw.

“You guys wouldn’t happen to remember how to reverse the poison, would you?” Xander asked shifting Dawn from one arm to the other. “Getting her home would be so much easier if she could do it herself.”

The Winchesters shook their heads.

Buffy wearily rubbed her temple. “Can you two stay here while we get her home? The Gnarl’s closed up inside, but I want to make sure it doesn’t escape while we’re gone.”

“Okay,” said Dean through gritted teeth as he sat down on a rock in front of the cave.

Buffy put her hand on his shoulder, “Dean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Damn poofy threw me into a tree when we were patrolling, but it’s just a bruise.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll look at it later,” she said before kissing him on the forehead and taking off with Xander and her stiff sister.

Sam sat beside his brother facing the opposite direction, keeping their flank covered. “You didn’t want to tell her about Spike?”

“I think she already knows.” Saying it out loud stung. “Besides, Dawn’s hurt.”

“Why would the Slayer be hanging out with a vampire?”

“Why would she trust him?”

“At least we didn’t kill him,” said Sam.

“What’s that bullshit?” Dean asked exasperated. “I’m pissed I didn’t kill him. That stupid peroxide head of his pops up again tonight, I’m taking it off.”

“Dean, Buffy trusts him for a reason,” Sam said.

“Crazy poofies ain’t worth trust.”

“Yeah, but your girlfriend is.” There was an edge in Sam’s voice.

“This whole thing stinks worse than a truck stop bathroom. Secrets an’ lies, Sammy, the whole damn thing.”

“Because Buffy knows everything about us?” Sam asked.

“She knows enough. She knows what danger’s out there.”

“Refresh my memory, but didn’t she have to drag that information out of you? She’s not trying to hurt you, Dean.”

“Tell that to my back.”

They sat in bitter silence for another half hour until Dean’s phone started ringing. It was Buffy yelling, “Willow’s in the cave!”

* * *

 

With the entrance to the cave blocked, Willow measured time in strips of skin the demon carved from her stomach. It was only up to five as it kept stopping to lap up the blood and tease her. “All alone, so far from home. Now you’re mine to drink and dine.”

She couldn’t wipe away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Coming here had been a bad idea.

Suddenly, the rocks covering the entrance moved and two lights shown in followed by two tall shadows. Willow began to groan and the demon scuttled away. A light washed over her.

“Dean, she’s here!”

It was the men she’d met after finding the body, Buffy’s surprise new friends.

One of them moved his light all over the cave, while the other kneeled beside her and looked at her stomach.

“That’s not good,” he muttered to himself. “Okay, Willow, I’m Sam. We met earlier today. I’m going to pick you up and get you out of this cave, alright?”

“No, no, please stay. Gnarl wants to bleed and play,” a sing-song voice bounced off the cave walls.

“Is this thing fucking rhyming? Oh God, I want to shoot it,” growled Dean, sweeping his flashlight to and fro.

Willow felt two strong arms cradle her. She groaned in pain from the shift.

“I’m so sorry, but we have to move you,” Sam gently explained. He held her close to his chest; his scent, like cedar and old books, comforted her. “Ready, Dean?” he asked as he headed toward the entrance.

There was a clatter to their right. Dean spun that way to find nothing. Sam cried out, and Willow crashed to the floor. Now she was bent, the blood soaking her blouse even faster, and a large man was collapsed on her legs.

“Gnarl said to stay. He can eat for days and days.”

“Shit!” Dean kept his flashlight moving, and sat with his back toward them. “Sam, you okay?”

“Uh-nuh.”

“Willow? How’s it going? I mean, aside from the shitty welcome home party.”

“Id Uffy send you?”

“Yeah, she did. She’s one her way. Now we’re all gonna be real quiet and see if I can shoot this son of a bitch.”

Buffy was coming for her. Buffy was coming. Her friends hadn’t forgotten her. Not seeing them when she arrived had made Willow feel cold and alone. Now the knowledge that they were coming to save her made her warm, and her warmth started to light the cave.

“You lighin’ things up, Red?”

“Uh-nuh.”

“Keep it up.” Dean shot at a shadow to his left. The demon howled.

“Not fair. Not fair. You steal away into my lair, and–”

“Hey, there babe, nice to see you.” Dean’s voice sounded relieved. “I think I winged the Gnarl, but he’s still bouncing around. Quick little fucker.”

Willow didn’t see who he was talking to. She felt hands turning her onto her back. It was Anya, the person she cared about the least in Sunnydale, yet the only friend she’d seen since coming home.

“I told them you’d be here,” Anya explained. “Not this cave specifically, just wherever Gnarl was. Because it’s just Gnarl. No _the_ ,” she muttered at Dean. “Good thing I still put up with you all. huh?”

She paused as if listening and said to the cave wall, “Willow’s right here. Why can’t you see her? She’s lighting the whole place up, Xander.”

“‘Ander’s ‘ere?”

“Yes, Willow, Xander and Buffy are both here. They’ve been looking for you all day,” said Anya flatly.

“‘Y can’t I see ‘em?”

“My God, do you need me to solve all your problems? Will you back off, Xander? You’re going to step on her!”

“I’m ‘ine,” moaned Sam.

“You’ve met Sam and Dean, I see,” said Anya as she inspected Willow’s wounds. “They’re demon hunters from the future. That sounds made up, but it isn’t.”

From her new position, Willow could see Dean standing a few feet away from Gnarl, a boney green nightmare with too many rows of teeth. Dean tossed a dagger which somehow changed direction and impaled the demon’s foot.

“Go for the eyes!” Anya shouted over the demon’s squeals. Then the demon was dead on the floor, eyes missing. “Buffy killed the demon. She needs to wash her hands.”

“Thumbs? Girly, you’re a major badass.”

Willow’s entire body started to tingle, like she was waking up. She wiggled her toes, but any more movement sent jolts of pain to her raw stomach. She closed her eyes and pictured Buffy and Xander in her mind. They way they laughed. They way they fought. The way they treated her like family. Then they were in front of her, surprised and with eyes full of tears.

* * *

 

Her friends had insisted on helping Willow hobble home. Having only been scratched, Sam was in much better shape. By the time they arrived back at the Summers’ residence, a mobile Dawn was already bandaging her cut from the demon. Anya mixed a healing salve in the kitchen while Xander fetched ice packs before collapsing on the couch. Dean helped his brother with the cut on his back, and Buffy took Willow upstairs to wash her wound.

Trying to distract herself from the pain as Buffy cut her blouse off, Willow asked, “So, new boyfriend? He called you _babe_.”

“He did, didn’t he?” Buffy’s eyes lit up, and she smiled a goofy smile. “Yeah! Dean’s… mmm… Let’s just say things have improved since he got here.”

“From the future?”

“It’s a long, crazy story for another night. Sorry, about the shirt, Will,” she said holding up the bloody strips of ruffles. “Your jacket may be okay though. I’ll run you a bath and check on that salve, okay?”

Gingerly, Willlow removed the rest of her clothes. Turning off the water before it reached the raw wounds on her stomach, she settled into her shallow bath.

Buffy returned with the salve and some pajamas. “I’m setting your stuff on the counter, okay, Will?” She paused, silently standing on the other side of the shower curtain before hesitantly asking, “Why did you go after Gnarl alone?”

Where did she start? _Because I skinned a man? Because I thought you’d blame me? Because I wanted to clear my name? Because I was scared?_

A gruff voice called to Buffy from the hallway, sparing Willow from answering. “Buffy, we need to talk.”

She didn’t fully close the door when she left; Willow kept her splashing to a minimum to aid eavesdropping.

“Dean, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have shut you out like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t’ve.”

“A while ago Xander came over and he was talking about his role in the group. At the time, I thought he was being silly, but now I understand. I’m just not sure where you fit with everything and everyone in my life, so it was easier to push you out of the circle while I handled the situation.”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense. I’ve been fightin’ by your side for weeks, so why should I possibly do is again today? I know, gotta make room for Spike.”

“What? Dean, we’ve talked about this.”

“No, we haven’t, Buffy!” His voice rose. “You told me he was a dick who helped you with the baddies. When the fuck were you going to tell me he’s a goddamn vampire?”

There was stomping in the hallway, and one of the bedroom doors slammed. Their voices were muffled, but Willow could still make out bits and pieces as she hurried to clean the filth of the cave from her battered body.

“– goin’ to get someone killed–”

“– not like that –”

“What the fuck – Slayer – monster–”

“– call the shots here –”

“– don’t know what I’m doing –”

Willow salved and wrapped her injuries, put on the pajamas, and dashed downstairs as fast as her body would allow. Everyone was sitting silently in the living room looking in the direction of the raised voices. “Are they always like that?”

“They’re usually more…hands-on,” said Xander putting his arm around Willow as she settled into the couch. “Pro tip: if they’ve been in a room alone for a while, do not walk in.”

“I could have used that tip a couple weeks ago,” griped Dawn.

“Could still go that way,” mused Anya. “Whatever they’re arguing about, it’s very passionate. This either ends with loud sex or Dean storming out of the house.”

“It’s going to be the latter,” said Sam, his face buried in his hands.

“What are they arguing about?”

“Spike,” answered Willow.

“What part of Spike?”

“The he’s-a-vampire part,” sighed Sam.

Everyone looked pointedly away from him. Anya started whistling.

“Of course, you all knew that.”

“In our defense,” said Xander, “we all thought he’d left town. Buffy didn’t even tell us when he came back. He just popped up last week with the whole Slugoff demon problem. I’d have told you from the get-go, but Buffy was worried about how Dean would take it.”

“Great plan, because now Dean wants to kill him.”

“Good!” said Xander darkly. “Can I get tickets? I’d have staked the bastard years ago if I could.”

“Buffy must have had a good reason for not telling you,” offered Willow.

“Yes, she doesn’t trust either of you,” stated Anya with a shrug. “Everything’s different and crazy where you’re from. You’ve killed things she wouldn’t. So between you two and a neutered vampire, she thinks you’re more dangerous.”

“Anya!”

“You’re probably right,” said Sam.

“I usually am,” agreed Anya.

“What do you mean _neutered_?”

“The government put a chip in Spike’s head to keep him from hurting people.”

“Except my sister,” Dawn muttered.

“That’s only because I brought her back from the dead,” explained Willow.

Sharp-eye Sam looked at her, looked into her, and she wondered how much he knew about her, about Tara, about Warren. “You brought Buffy back from the _dead_?”

“Oh, is that also on the list of things Buffy didn’t tell you? Did she tell you I’m a witch? Hi. I’m a witch. Do-do you _kill_ witches?”

A thunder of boots stormed down the stairs. Dean slammed the front door behind him without a word.

Sam stood up. “That’s my cue. Tonight’s been a blast. Dawn, see you at school. Willow, get better. I gotta go talk my brother out of the bottom of a glass.”


End file.
